


Season Of

by aderyn



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Birthday, Birthday Presents, Forgiveness, Holidays, Love, Resurrection, Shopping, and nothing, what do you give the man who has everything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-08
Updated: 2013-11-08
Packaged: 2017-12-31 12:29:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1031720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aderyn/pseuds/aderyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Giving.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Season Of

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Batik](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Batik/gifts).



> For the lovely [Batik](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Batik/pseuds/Batik) on her birthday.

 

“Nope,” John says, tosses aside the blue-striped.

No to the dead languages, the silver silk, the biogeography of Britain.

“Um,” Molly says, when he stops by for coffee, "what about something alive? With chlorophyll. You know, to say, _glad you’re respiring_?”

Not bad. But no.

The coffee's too sweet.

*****

Why’d you have to be born in January? New year; new you. Damn it. Garlands everywhere.

You’ve never been easy but this year. First birthday back after death. What? You’ve always had all and none. Every atom of what you can buy and nothing well, of what you cannot.

What do you give? Not socks. Not cake.

Your presence your patience your gun hand--most importantly your forgiveness, grey as the goddamned sea.

No.

Your fingerprints. Your blood.

*****

The windows at the flat love rain, always have; the grey sea-light that suits, that says ten years of cases counting the unsolved, ten more years and here they’ll be; same cabs, same lips, same Epiphany.

A little box. A plain white card:

_Sherlock not many of us get to be born twice unless well, that’s what you believe. But I believe, well._

_No use in the kind of poetry I can’t write and you’d laugh at anyway._

_I’m glad you were born, twice._

_Have my heart, bloody hell._

_I’m glad you were born._


End file.
